


A Little Odd

by Arrestzelle



Category: Rammstein
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Blood Drinking, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-25
Updated: 2018-10-25
Packaged: 2019-08-07 05:54:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16402544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arrestzelle/pseuds/Arrestzelle
Summary: Rammstein is well-known to be bizarre. But being vampires is another league entirely.





	A Little Odd

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lolitaredhead](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lolitaredhead/gifts).



> This is a giveaway prize for @rammstein-lorenz on Tumblr!! There would be more to this AU, where Flake brings you back to the others and it becomes apparent Flake "turned" you, but I couldn't squeeze that into 1k, so, alas.

The dressing room is cold and stinks of makeup products when you enter, trailing after Flake who walks with a slightly hunched back and crossed arms. He seems tired. The others are crowding together, save for Schneider, who’s sitting at a mirror, scrubbing at his face with a makeup remover wipe. Ollie, Paul, and Till are staring down at Richard’s phone, kept in the hands of said man—they seem to be watching something, but you can’t quite tell what, though you can hear the German speaking. They glance up at your entrance. You suddenly feel nervous—but you force a smile regardless. Watching them now, no longer bathed in the light and fire of the stage, you realize they’re oddly pallid and look extremely tired. You think to yourself that they need more rest. Flake unfolds his arms and gestures towards you.

“This is [Y/N],” Flake introduces you lamely, “A new assistant to one of our pyro technicians. She expressed interest in meeting us formally. So. Here she is. And here we are.”

You wave a little, shyly, and say, “Sorry for the bother. It’s nice meeting you all, finally. I’m sure I’ll be seeing you around, regardless!”

You’ve secretly been a fan of theirs for years, and you’re sure they can tell. Paul rises with a grin and extends a hand; a friendly gesture. You smoothly return the handshake—pausing, you notice his grip is alarmingly cold. He shakes your hand as he cheerfully says with a waggle of his eyebrows, “A new victim! How thoughtful of you, Flake. Anyways, nice to meet you, [Y/N]! So, what did you think of the show? Be honest. Don’t pull your punches!”

 

* * *

 

For a while, you lounge around with the sextet, watching them chat and goof around (although Till isn’t participating much; he’s just nursing at some whiskey and occasionally chuckling)—it all is fun to you, even if you feel like the odd one out, but you enjoy their presence despite that. Eventually, Schneider and Till leave for their hotel, and upon their departure follows the gradual disappearance of the other four. Paul and Ollie linger, chatting with you and sharing stories and exchanging eye-roll inducing jokes, until Flake eventually gets bored and rises from the couch beside you. The other two pay him no mind; you notice and look up at him. He beckons you to follow with a cock of his head.

“Let’s go on a walk,” Flake says to you.

 

Outside, the night sky is an endless canvas of sparkling stars; there are no clouds to obscure the view. You admire it with a smile as the both of you pace out from the back entrance of the venue. It’s so late, there are no fans lingering besides a few people with cameras. You wonder if they’re paparazzi. Flake leads you from the lot of the venue, onto a street. You don’t wonder where the two of you are going; you’re just happy to be with him.

“How are you not cold?” you ask wryly as you rub at your arms, willing away the goosebumps that have risen, considering you left your jacket behind unintentionally. Flake is wearing just a simple short-sleeved shirt, having changed out of his sparkle suit a while ago. He glances at you and shrugs. A bit of a dismissive response from Flake, but you don’t question it. He’s being eerily quiet. Quieter than usual, at least. You eye him, curious to why he’s acting strange.

You walk side by side down the street, watching the stars, the darkness of the night. Flake takes your wrist in hand, albeit gently, and guides you between two buildings. You’re a little confused about what’s going on, but above anything else, you trust him, so you don’t argue.

“I need to tell you something important,” he says finally, breaking the silence to glance back at you with a knit brow. In the dimness of the night, he looks unusually pallid and drained. You’re concerned. You twist your wrist out of his hold and cross your arms. You step closer to him, in the secrecy of the buildings, and ask softly while searching in his faintly fearful eyes, “What’s wrong?”

“We don’t want to hurt anyone,” he begins quietly with a conflicted expression, “We did not choose to be this way. But we can’t live if we don’t take. We have to find people we can trust. I know we can trust you.”

You pause, looking at him with utter confusion. He scrubs at his face with a hand and then sighs. He drops his hand and look at you with determination in his eyes.

“They wanted to share you. We have to share, because it reduces the number of victims, reduces the risk. But I want to have the first taste, because you are—you are special. To me. You don’t understand. And you won’t.”

You’re too stunned to say anything. You look at him, dumbfounded, with alarmed eyes. You can’t make sense of what he’s talking about. But your thoughts jump back to the signs you’ve noticed tonight: the coldness of their skin, their pale features, the exhaustion in their faces and movements, the erratic behavior. They seemed almost… Desperate.

“Hold still,” Flake insists, reaching for you, “This will be unpleasant for only a moment. Trust me.”

You suck in a breath, shocked, when the other man cups his slender hands around your cheeks. He leans in towards you, and at first you think that he may kiss you. You watch him expectantly, heart pounding. Surprising you further somehow, he presses his mouth to your jaw, and then down along your neck. You realize his hands are trembling, sliding down from your cheeks to clutch tightly at your biceps, holding you firmly. His breathing is ragged. This is starting to freak you out, a little bit.

“This is ridiculous,” Flake huffs under his breath, and it’s a very Flake-like thing to say, which has you relaxing slightly. He’s right. Whatever is happening, it’s ridiculous. And then you feel his lips spread against your neck, before something sharp and painful digs into your skin. You flinch, attempting to jerk your shoulder up in a reflexive, defensive response, but his firm hold becomes iron-like, keeping you rooted and absolutely still. You gasp. A cold sweat breaks out over your skin. Coherency knocks into you like a slap to the face.

“Flake!” you begin sharply, “What the hell are you doing?! Ow!”

That sharp pain is worsening. He’s _biting_ you, so incredibly hard that his teeth are sinking into your flesh. You’re utterly in disbelief, and becoming very angry, very quickly.

“Stop it!” You growl, pushing at his midsection, attempting to twist out of his hold. But he’s relentless; he just brings his arms around you, pulling you into a restraining embrace while keeping his jaw locked around your neck. The shock of him beginning to _suck_ renders you silent. You feel his lips tighten against your skin, sucking firmly, continuously. He’s groaning deeply against you, squeezing you ever closer in his arms. Absolutely stunned, you just stand there, kept trapped in his arms—what the hell is happening?

The pain is lessening. It fades from a sharp pain, to a dull, throbbing ache. He’s continuing to make rather embarrassing noises of pleasure as he nurses at the puncture wounds he made in your neck—you’re not sure if he’s aware of it or not. What, is he into this kind of sick sexual play? What the fuck is going on?

But it then becomes apparent, you’re suddenly feeling woozy. Light-headed. You’re starting to lose your balance. You sag into him, feeling like you weigh a thousand tons. Your vision spins. Everything is suddenly too much, too overwhelming. Flake comes to realize you’re starting to collapse into him; he immediately jerks away from your neck, panting heavily. Distantly, you hear him growl your name. Your eyes weakly flicker open and train on the swimming image of Flake, his lips and chin covered in vibrant blood. His canines are elongated and pointed, catching on his lips as he says something to you, something you cannot truly decipher, considering you’re fading away into unconsciousness from the abrupt blood loss and shock from what happened.

**Author's Note:**

> babypaulchen.tumblr.com


End file.
